


Old Bookshops

by Melody_Of_The_River



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Angst, But dont let that scare you because Akane and Kou are actually very soft with each other in this one, F/M, Graphic Depictions of Dead Bodies, Psycho-pass sinners of the system inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 03:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17973782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melody_Of_The_River/pseuds/Melody_Of_The_River
Summary: After a particularly grueling case that leaves both Kogami and Akane severely emotionally distraught, Akane takes him to an old bookshop.





	Old Bookshops

**_2112_ **

The woman’s once scarlet blood, that must have run so willingly, almost oozing, down the perpetrator’s knife had now started pooling on the peeling linoleum of his makeshift “operating” floor, coagulated, staining the brown covering, and quickly blackening in the August heat.

The Enforcer stood atop her lifeless corpse, investigating, calculating, examining the body with those cold, merciless eyes of his, drooping now from the exhaustion of the day before. Eleven hours of search – gone. Turned meaningless just with one harsh stroke by that butcher’s hand and one beautiful cream-colored severed neck.  But besides the mess of the body lying at his feet, every other surface in the room – the abattoir, more like – was meticulously clean, pristine white, surgically shiny. Kogami would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least half-impressed.

He bent down, put one hand on the woman’s cheek and turned her face towards himself. The neck gushed more blood as it was twisted, protesting like a rusted hinge on an ancient door. It was thick enough, the liquid, that despite his caution, it still stained the sleeve of his jacket.

A soft hand on his shoulder jostled him, and he snapped back towards the intruder, bloodied hand instinctively going to clasp around the wrist.

“Kogami-san?”

It took him a moment to snap out of it, unfocused eyes focusing, removing the image of split-open necks and gaping wounds – like smiles, carved into trees by naïve children. Took him a moment to remove the firm grip he had on the intruder’s wrist, bloodied fingertips loosening, pulling back. Standing up.

“I was calling for you, but you didn’t listen. I’m sorry – I… did not mean to disturb.”

His hands had left an imprint on the intruder’s wrist. A gorgeous red imprint – not unlike the color of the lipstick the dead woman was wearing.

“Kogami-san?” the voice spoke again, softer this time. And it was at this repetition of his name that he finally looked up. Soft brown eyes, staring back into his. Worried, hurt concern etched into the very irises.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

It had never failed to surprise him, that woman’s voice; on the verge of adulthood, and yet… wiser in ways he could never imagine to be. And kind, oh so kind. Even as he looked back at her with the eyes of a deranged wolf, even as she rubbed away the blood from his forceful grip, she had the audacity – the kindness – to ask him if _he_ was all right.

He stepped back from the body, taking off his ruined jacket and folding it atop his right arm. “I’m all right,” he said. A curt, brief answer… meant for a curt, brief reply. An acknowledgement of duty, that's all, from an Inspector to an Enforcer. That was all that was demanded of her. No more, no less.

He should have known by now that that was the last thing he was going to get. Not from Akane, anyway.

“Come on,” she said, “We’re done for the day. There’s nothing more we can do about this case now. We’ll let Ginoza and the others handle this for now. You’re coming with me, Kogami-san.”

“Akane…”

“I’m your superior officer, you have to listen to me,” she said, her tone all business-like. He had never heard her pull rank on him before, and he would have taken her seriously had he but not noticed her gaze while she said it, belying that look of pity, of the need to help him like he was a pained wounded animal. He was not. He had done this more times than a rookie like her could imagine. It did not affect him anymore. It really didn’t. Or so he liked to tell himself. Hence, he would never admit to Akane, and certainly not to himself, that only when she dragged him out of the slaughterhouse and secured his seat-belt in the passenger seat of her car, did he finally take maybe his first breath in the past eleven hours.

* * *

 

Akane had turned the auto-pilot off. The maps were closed, the navigating system shut down.

“Where are we headed, chief?” Kogami questioned, words muddled around the cigarette between his lips. He removed the lighter from the pocket of his dress shirt and heard Akane take in a cold breath when he moved to light the cylindrical coil.

“You’ll know soon enough,” she answered, her tone stricter than it usually was, uninviting to more questions. Kogami took in a smoky breath and held up his hands in defeat.

“Alright, then. Won’t ask,” he said.

A statement easier said than followed, anyway, because the ride proved to be longer than he was anticipating. They’d been driving for half an hour as it was, when Kogami’s patience had broken and he had succumbed to the inviting pleasures of tobacco and lung cancer, but now when it was nearing two hours almost, he couldn’t help but question more.

“Seriously, Akane, where the hell are we going –”

“With all due respect, Kogami-san, shut up and let me drive, alright. It’s hard enough to focus as it is, with you smoking up my interior.”

Kogami’s eyes widened; he had never heard Akane talk like that before. In the few months he had known her, he was almost convinced the woman was incapable of being rude. Hearing her like that, he found himself smiling; the company of delinquents, crooks, half-criminals and psychopaths was clearly taking its toll on her, it seemed. God help her if she turned out like him.

“Well… you should have said something, Inspector Tsunemori,” he replied simply, lowering the side window and throwing the half-smoked butt of the cigarette outside.  It was close to illegal to litter within the city, but between the landscape of tall metallic-gray buildings and smooth, charcoal roads, Kogami was of the opinion that a littered cigarette-butt was but an improvement to the crisp view.

“Why aren’t you using the maps?” he asked.

“Where we’re going isn’t on the maps.”

“Hmph,” he scoffed, “Sure, doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”

“It’s not all that far now, anyway.”

“We’re nearing the end of the city, Akane,” he pointed out.

The woman took in an exasperated breath. "Didn’t I tell you to shut up, Kogami-san?”

Her voice sounded on edge. Her shoulders were firm, back straight, posture strained. Kogami had the sudden thought that she would do well with a cigarette or two. "Fine, woman. Keep your secrets," he said, voice on the verge of annoyance itself.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” she started almost immediately, tone guilty. “I didn’t mean to –”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he assured her.

“No, it isn’t. It’s not how an Inspector should behave.”

“Really, Akane, it’s alright. We’re dogs, remember? Nothing to be guilty about.”

“No, you’re not –” she began again, frustrated, “You’re _not_ dogs. I want you to stop thinking like that, Kogami-san. You’re an invaluable asset to our workforce, and if I see a member of my team unusually affected by a case, it is my duty as Inspector to make sure they are feeling better. It’s just more efficient for the division that way.”

“So, is that what this is? You taking your dog on a walk in the park?”

“Kogami –”

“No, seriously, Akane. We’re criminals. _Legal_ criminals, but criminals all the same. The way you’re thinking fogs people’s psycho-passes up in a heartbeat. And before they know it, they’re standing where we are. You want that, Akane? Because this is a sure-fire way to get it!”

“This is the humane thing –” she started.

“The _humane_ thing, Akane” he stressed, “gets you locked up. Feeling pity, sorrow, _any_ emotion gets you _locked up_. What part of that don’t you understand? You’re not supposed to be helping us. You’re not investigators, you’re not detectives. You’re administrators. Your job is to be happy. All the time. Sadness means you have failed your job. It means the system has failed. It’s not a valid emotion. It’s a crime. It’s _going_ to get your psycho-pass clouded up! Why don’t you stop worrying about the dogs, and do your fucking job, huh?”

She turned towards him, eyebrow raised. “You done?” she asked.

“Akane –”

“We’ve had this argument before, Kogami-san,” she turned back towards the road, “and I’ve told you my psycho-pass is none of your concern. Besides, you’re my Enforcer, you're obligated to follow me,” she pointed out.

The man tsked. “Don’t I know it?”

“You always have the second option."

"Which is?"

"I shoot you,” she said, turning back towards him with a smirk on her lips.

Kogami scoffed. "Stuck between a rock and a hard place, huh, Tsunemori? That's what I get for trying to help? Real great deal, Inspector.”

“Don't push me, Kogami-san. You treat me like a child. I'm not a child. So, if we’re clear on that…” she pulled over on the side of the road, “we’re here.”

Kogami looked up at the tall gray building she had parked near. “This?”

“No, not this. It’s just a little bit head. In the alley between the buildings.”

“Should I be worried, _Inspector_ Tsunemori?” he asked, as he opened the passenger door.

Akane shrugged her shoulders. “If you want to be.”

* * *

 

Hidden in the dark alley between the buildings, was a solitary source of light, peeking from behind a glass door, covered in newspapers – an archaic thing the likes of which Kogami had never seen before – from the inside, except for the few cracks which belied the contents of the room inside.

A bookshop. Akane had brought him to a bookshop.

Kogami had often wondered whether his small collection of paperbacks were the last printed books in all of Japan, prided himself on it even, but he had never expected that hidden inside the corporate gray labyrinth of Tokyo was a gem like this. Akane opened the door for him, and as soon as he stepped inside, his eyes were rewarded with the wonderful yellow tungsten-filament library glow, that he had only ever been fortunate enough to read about in his books and journals. The room smelled like dried wood, paper and pencil shavings – a real odd smell. Kogami felt like he had stepped into a time capsule.

But Kogami’s musings were cut short, because as soon as he ventured further inside, his face was met with a shotgun.

“Who are you people?”

“I –”

“We’re with the MWPSB, Criminal Investigation Department,” Akane stepped in. The man’s grip on his shotgun tightened, finger hovering dangerously above the trigger.

“Wait, wait,” she said, stepping between Kogami’s tall stature and the man behind the gun. “We’re not here to arrest you, we don’t even have our Dominators,” she raised her arms as a show of good faith, and nudged Kogami to do the same, “We’re just here to look at the books.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” the man replied, unconvinced, unmoving, shotgun not an inch from its place.

“I am aware of that, sir,” Akane negotiated, “But if you shoot us, the psycho-pass monitors outside are going to know.”

“I’ve done a well enough job of maintaining a blue hue until now.”

“I have no doubt about that, sir. Having a shotgun and not getting arrested is a testament to that. But would you really like to take the risk?”

That seemed to throw the man for a loop. His shotgun faltered just a little, but it was enough for Akane to shove it out of her face with her arm, grip the man’s wrist, turn the gun upwards, and take it from him.

“Shit, you said you were –” the man started, retreating back into the store. His legs had started to tremble, quivering in fear.

“And I told you the truth,” Akane said, her demeanor still calm, voice composed. She locked the safety of the gun, placing it at an angle by the wall. “We’re just here to look at the books. Unless we’re not welcome, of course?” she raised an eyebrow at the man.

“No, no –”

“Good. Then we’ll only be here for a little while.”

She turned back towards Kogami, who was standing behind her, arms flailing, unsure of what to do. His face must have had quite the dumb-struck look on it, because Akane’s lips curled upwards into the most wicked smirk. “What?” she asked him, eyebrow raised.

“N-nothing,” he replied, too quickly to be natural. Akane smiled again, and beckoned him to follow her.

“I brought you to a bookshop and I’m the one you keep staring at?” she chided, tone playful. At ease, once again. The events of the day already half-forgotten.

Kogami smiled behind her, and followed her to the nearest shelf.

* * *

 

The man did not bother them again.

The shotgun remained inclined by the wall, and he did not look towards it even once. He remained seated at the desk by the door, writing something – the archaic pen and paper way – while Kogami and Akane kept to themselves on the other side of the shop, looking through his collection of books, seldom sharing a word or two between each other to discuss one title or the other. The owner really had enough books to fill the whole room. Probably five hundred copies or more. And none of which either Akane or Kogami had heard of before.

On one particular title, Akane found herself perplexed and so she offered the book to the man for insight.

“Ballet? What’s that?”

He turned the book around – one of the rare hardbacks in the shop – and went over the summary.

“No idea…” he said, flipping through the pages.

“Maybe the owner knows.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Akane moved toward the man again, and the man – a middle-aged Caucasian looking fellow with thinning red hair – looked up, surprised, his hand moving beneath the desk almost by instinct, only realizing a moment later that his gun had been confiscated.

“H-how can I help you?” he asked, his voice still nervous. Kogami only now heard the slight accent in his Japanese.

“We’re wondering…” Akane began, “what ballet is?”

The man raised his eyes in surprise. “It’s a type of dance.”

“Yes, we figured that through the summary of the book, but…”

He breathed in a tired sigh, and rose up from his chair. “It would be easier if I just showed you,” the man said.

He turned and retrieved a cardboard box lying on the shelf behind him and a holographic projecting device from his table. He opened the lid and Akane and Kogami couldn’t help but peer inside.

Inside was a row of neatly organized colorful square paper packets, from which the man fished out one. He opened the packet and removed a shiny circular disk from the inside, and holding it by the rim, placed it gently in the cartridge of the device.

“Late twenty-first century technology,” he added by way of explanation, as if that statement helped Kogami’s or Akane’s burning curiosity at all.

The man inserted the disk, and the holographic projector started buzzing, processing the information probably, before lighting up to show the videos the disk contained.

Kogami couldn’t find the words to describe it in the beginning. He couldn’t say he had ever heard music like the one emanating from the device before. Soft, delicate notes, played by instruments he probably could not name. A woman was dancing to it. Dressed in all white, her tutu made of fabric like feathers, a necklace around her delicate neck and a tiara placed on her skull. It was simply enchanting, the dance. Poised elegantly on her tip-toes, the woman moved like flowing water, twirling to the music like she was one with it. Her body moved like an extension of the instrument that played the symphony, her legs like the carriers of its melody, her arms its wings.

It was the dancer’s soul, the music.

It was too short, the video. And when it ended, it seemed like a spell had broken. Not just for Kogami, but by the entranced smiles on Akane’s face, for her too. The man, on the other hand, seemed to be watching them. His gaze almost scrutinizing, studying them like they were an anomaly he could not seem to grasp.

“Are you sure you’re from the MWPSB?” he asked.

Akane laughed. “Fairly certain, sir, yes.”

The man nodded, though his expression belied his remaining incredulity, and looked down at the box of disks.

“I’m afraid I’m going to close down the shop soon. Unless there’s something you want to buy, I think it’s time you should go.”

“Of course,” Akane agreed, and then turned to Kogami, “Just the book about ballet, right?”

“What? No, Akane, I –”

“No, I don’t want to hear any excuses,” she said, her tone final, as she turned to the man and handed over the book. “Just this one please. Name your price.”

He did, and Akane fished out her card to offer it to him.

The man retrieved his card reader from beneath the desk, charged the card and returned it to Akane.

“May I have the book for a moment, please?” he said.

“Sure…” Akane replied, handing it to the man. The man took the book and bent down beneath the desk. The pair of them couldn’t see what he was doing but when he emerged, he handed the book back to them, only this time in an elegant brown paper wrapping, topped with a beautiful bow made of white string.

“Enjoy your reading,” he said simply, adjusting the glasses on his nose.

“Thank you,” Kogami said, speaking for the first time in their conversation, taking the book from the man’s hands.

As the pair moved to exit the door, Akane turned to the man one last time. “May I ask your name, sir?” she asked.

The man scoffed, a poor, humorless thing, and then answered. “You probably couldn’t pronounce it anyway," he replied.

 

“A word of advice, if I may, sir?” Kogami interjected the man's musings when Akane had left.

“Yes?”

“The next MWPSB officers that may come through these doors may not be as interested in literature as the two of us," he said, then added, "Sir.”

“You’re really not the first person to say this to me, son,” he replied. “You have a good night now.”

Kogami took one last look around the shop, then nodded towards its owner. “You too,” he said, shutting the door safely behind Akane and himself.

 

* * *

 

“Thank you,” he said simply, as Akane walked him back towards the car.

“No problem. I was just doing my _job.”_

Kogami chuckled. He couldn’t remember the last time he had even smiled, much less chuckled.

“That you certainly were,” he said, “ _Inspector.”_

 

* * *

 

“How did you find this place anyway?” he asked, once they were safely on the way back to headquarters.

“I have my sources,” she replied, her tone light once again.

“Hm… Masaoka told you, didn’t he?”

She smiled.

“He may have let slip a word or two, yes.”

 


End file.
